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The Eye's Demise
Cockpit Crammed with equipment, the cockpit is nevertheless designed to seat more than six human-sized occupants in addition to its crew. Two grav-couches form an aisle between them, each upholstered in a dull black. At the aisles head are two gyroscopic chairs, before each a console. A wide viewscreen occupies the fore wall, projecting an image of the space before the ship there for the occupants and crew alike. The area is well-lit, comfortably warm to most species. The central console, obviously the pilot's, has obviously been modified from its factory specifications, scopes and buttons jutting out from it at irregular angles adding to its complexity. Just to its port is a weapons console, almost running into the pilot's, likely itself a post-production addition to the ship, its metal silverish rather than black. The scopes and buttons of this console glow a dull green, adding an unearthly cast to whatever gunner hunches over them. Jaxx has already strapped himself into the navcon chair of the Pride, humming a little bit to himself as his fingers tap over the buttons on the console. N'Sha-El settles herself on a grav couch, straps herself in calmly. "Need a hand?" she observes quietly. Jaxx shakes his head. "No, thank you." He turns, flashing a grin at his paramour, then returns his attention to the controls. "The shields are raised-- perhaps we'll have a bit of warning before the solar flares burn them out. N'Sha-El returns a faint grin. "I haven't had to just sit around on a ship for quite a while now love..." she observes sagely. Jaxx chuckles softly. "Is it so intolerable? N'Sha-El wrinkles her nose a bit. "Not entirely...just...different." She settles herself and watches her fiancé work the controls with interest. Jaxx guides the ship skillfully into the atmosphere of Val Shohob...It's almost immediately buffeted by atmospheric turbulence. The viewport turns a reddish hue as sand of that color, kicked up by the wind into the upper atmosphere, lightly coats the instruments. Somehow, still, the ship makes a safe landing on the tarmac, now nearly indistinguishable from the rest of the loose sand being blown about. N'Sha-El's eyes track to the viewport and remain there the whole landing. "That sun..." she murmurs softly. "It's so...bloody red. Like a damn zit ready to pop." Jaxx nods a bit, lowering his eyes for a moment. "Hold on a few moments, love. I'm going to change before we debark. Jaxx unstraps himself, heading into the rear compartments. A few minutes later, he returns, wearing a robe. N'Sha-El glances at herself a moment. "Yeh...that might be good. I need to as well, dammit..." N'Sha-El is dressed and ready by the time Jaxx returns, wearing what even for her is very very casual. She smiles at her fiancé and gestures to the door. Jaxx nods a bit, holding a hand out for Sha's. N'Sha-El lays her hand in Jaxx's calmly and follows him. After departing the ship, Sha and Jaxx trek past the dusty ruins of what once were Val Shohobian streets and arrive eventually at the: Guild Foyer The canvas curtain hung over the door to the street flaps fitfully as the wind howls outside. A narrow passage leads deeper into the guild headquarters. The walls are painted with earth-hued triangles, circles and squares. The ground trembles beneath you. Jaxx grips more tightly to Sha's hand as the earth shifts beneath his feet, trying to steady them both. Bits of plaster fall in chunks from the ceiling, pattering on the floor and in your hair. N'Sha-El's eyes narrow, as she dodges a hunk of plaster. Her fingers twine around Jaxx's. "Bloody hell..." she says softly as they head deeper into the Guild. Jaxx calls out, voice horse from the dry air of the sandy planet, "Balthazar?" The only reply comes from the wailing wind. N'Sha-El glances around her, at the ruin of what used to be a thriving community, now empty with only ghosts of laughter and earlier times for company. She tugs Jaxx towards the passage, mute. Jaxx leads Sha warily further into the Guild, the bottom of his robe leaving a little clear trail in the wind-whipped sand scattered about the corridor. Passage A narrow corridor grants access from the foyer to other chambers within the guild of the Shohobian Mystics. The sandstone walls are decorated with geometric designs. Iron stanchions hold half-burned wax candles, unlit. The ground trembles beneath you. Jaxx places a hand on the still-stable wall of the corridor, steadying himself and supporting Sha, until this tremor has passed. Again, he calls out, "Balthazar?" One of the iron stanchions pops loose from its bracing and falls with a clatter on the floor, kicking up a small cloud of dust. N'Sha-El darts back a pace, sheer reflex as the stanchion falls. "Balthazar!" she calls, echoing Jaxx's. The dust flies around them, makes her cough. You hear the sound of howling wind coming from the Eye's Abode. Jaxx purses his lips..."He would have been at the tower...If possible..." Without finishing his thought, he leads Sha towards the Eye's Abode. Eye's Abode A spartan chamber that rises as a tower above the mesa community, stone steps spiral up toward what might once have been a stately domed spire, but now is little more than a roofless platform jutting out from the shattered tower wall. The edifice is drenched in bloody red light from the star Volshovir, and a harsh, whirling hot wind roars overhead. Row after row of shelves, empty but for sweeping waves of sand, stand against one wall. A ladder is toppled next to them. N'Sha-El's eyes search the spartan remains of the once proud tower. Her voice is tight, expressionless when she does speak after a while. "He's not here love." Jaxx nods, scanning the wreckage, a frown coming to his lips. "No body," he states. N'Sha-El purses her lips. "He's not here. Then...where else? The Hall?" Jaxx shakes his head. "Perhaps." He looks around again, "Though...He should be /here/." N'Sha-El's eyes again search the shattered remains. "Under the sand perhaps?" Her voice dry, almost inhumanly quiet. Jaxx shakes his head. "Not enough to cover a body. Let's check the other rooms here, yes." The ground trembles beneath you. A brick topples from the high ragged remnants of the tower and misses Sha by inches. Jaxx jerks Sha to one side instinctively, eyes shooting upwards, perhaps not aware that the trajectory would have taken the brick wide anyway. N'Sha-El's breath comes in a little hiss as she gets pulled into Jaxx. "Thanks love..." she murmurs, eyeing the fallen projectile. "Let's go before we get flattened." Jaxx nods a bit. "Yes. The other rooms seem more stable." He leads Sha towards the corridor, warily. They quickly go out to the Corridor: Jaxx moves, with Sha, towards the Gathering Chamber, keeping near the right-hand-wall, prepared thus for the next tremor. N'Sha-El follows, eyes tracking every inch of ground, Fringe instincts taking over. Gathering Chamber Tall candles sit darkened atop wrought iron poles in this sand-hued chamber with rough walls adorned with geometric designs in browns and grays. The centerpiece of the room, a polished stone-topped table, has been cracked and collapsed, surrounded by several overturned chairs. At one end of the room, painted in greens, whites and blacks, is a large almond-shaped eye that gazes upon the ruin. Jaxx scans the chamber, pursing his lips when he spies the cracked table. He sighs softly. "He is not here, either." N'Sha-El bites her lips a little. "Where else could he be...?" she murmurs softly. Jaxx shakes his head. "I do not know. Perhaps he is not in the Guild at all..." His brow wrinkles, and he leads Sha back into the corridor. Jaxx sighs, peering through doors as he walks through the corridor. He shakes his head. "We will check the Assembly Hall...Perhaps he is there." The ground lurches beneath you, and a rather nasty looking crack appears in the floor, about a half-inch wide and a foot long. N'Sha-El hisses sharply and drags Jaxx back a pace. "Dammit..." she growls softly. "This place is falling to bits like a boiled egg in a damn washer." Jaxx nods a bit. "If we do not find him soon, we must leave unsatisfied." The pair quickly head out of the Mystics’ Guild into: Street The crimson glow of a bilious, dying sun glares like a baleful demonic eye through a swirling shroud of sand driven by a blazing wind among the domed buildings scattered around Overlook Mesa. Once-colorful rugs, now tattered and pale, flap violently in some archways. Jaxx moves, with some purpose, towards the Assembly Hall. From the way he's walking, it's as though he expects the planet to tear itself apart any moment now. N'Sha-El's steps are no less quick, but her eyes dart around the deserted street, brows knitted together. "Balthazar?" she calls again, voice hoarse from breathing in the loose, gritty sand. Jaxx sighs, ducking, with Sha, into the Assembly Hall. Assembly Hall Doric-style marble columns stand cracked and crumbling within this massive chamber. The large double doors of ashwood have been smashed with sharp-edged tools. Sand banks against the wooden benches flanking a sand-choked aisle that leads to a dais reached by rough-hewn stone steps. High above the dais, infected-looking red light from Volshovir bleeds through the pupil of a stylized eye. Balthazar sits upon the stone steps at the far end of the assembly hall, in his bedraggled robes and torn sandals, his head hanging low, his hands dangling between his legs. He looks more like a beaten animal than the leader of a proud people. He's a tall, wiry Shohobian Mystic clad in tattered, sand-gritted brown robes that reach to his ankles. He wears brown leather sandals with broken leg-strappings. The flesh on his face, hands and legs is sordidly hued and peeling. His left eye gleams the hue of a blood-stained sword, but his right eye is filmed over with a milky cataract. His silver hair is tousled and clotted with sand. Jaxx says, softly, as he passes through the doorway and spies Balthazar. "My Eye." N'Sha-El's breath catches with a hiss as she takes in the ruin of the man before her. "Balthazar." Balthazar looks around blindly, staring at one of the columns, then rasps, "Who goes there?" Jaxx advances a few paces, "It's Orandius, my Eye. Orandius and N'Sha-El." N'Sha-El's lips tighten as she follows beside Jaxx. "Balthazar. We've come back." Quietly. Balthazar smiles faintly, raising a hand toward the column. "The wind, listen to the wind, my children." Jaxx cocks his head slightly. "I hear it, my Eye. Its voice is soft, and it tells me of the end of a world." The crooked man, who looks so much older than he did not so long ago, nods slowly. "It speaks to me of endings, yes." N'Sha-El tosses her braid over her shoulder with a little flip of her free hand. It's a moment before she speaks and when she does, it is gentle, quiet. "Come with us Balthazar." Slowly she kneels down in front of the old Mystic. Balthazar shakes his head. "No, child." He stares off into empty space. "This is my home." Jaxx moves, likewise, to kneel before Balthazar. "Still. We would ask you to join us. It pains me that you will not see our new beginning, even now. Mordecai will continue to lead the order-- there is no need for your death." Balthazar coughs, and the sputum that dribbles down his chin is crimson with blood. He doesn't raise a hand to clean it. "The doctors...they came...they told me...already dead." Jaxx shakes his head in quiet and perhaps unseen refusal, "You are strong. You may yet survive." N'Sha-El keeps her eyes fixed on Balthazar's face. Lightly she reaches out with her free hand to brush away the obscene red trickle. The gleam of the diamond on her ring finger catches in the pustulent red light, turning it into a myriad of rainbows. "You won't die. You can't die. Come with us, Balthazar." A pause. "Please." Balthazar smiles weakly. "No," he says to the empty space. "Not...that strong. And you cannot remain...radiation levels...dangerously high." Jaxx says, "We take that risk knowingly. Do not concern yourself with it. We will not die here." Balthazar furrows his brow and coughs again, another bloody eruption from his mouth. He sags limply, sliding down the steps to the sand-swept floor. "Do not, Brother Orandius, concern yourself...with an old man. I am doing what...must be done." N'Sha-El reaches out to take the old Mystic's hand. "We've come to tell you something, Balthazar. I figured you should know." She clasps the bony claw around the ring on her finger gently. "And I came to ask you...about my son. About his future when...when I have him back." Balthazar stares blankly at the ceiling. "Your...son?" Jaxx says, "Kip." Balthazar mutters to himself for a moment, more blood burbling from his mouth. "Ah, yes, the boy." Balthazar stares toward, but not quite at, Sha. "Much...greatness..." N'Sha-El watches the frail man for a long, silent moment. "Dammit, let us take you back..." she says suddenly, vehemently and intense. "You don't have to do this...I know you choose to but..." She drops Jaxx's hand and yanks off her sweater, the black tank top looking rather insubstantial in terms of trying to be some measure of protection against the winds and possible radiation. She leans over and tries to clean up some of the blood. "I'm going to get him back Balthazar...I will. With my life if needs be." Jaxx says, "And with her life goes mine...We are to be married." Balthazar coughs up another gout of blood, staining the sweater. He gazes around blankly. "How...wonderful..." N'Sha-El's lips tighten as she continues patiently trying to clean up the blood. "I hope you don't mind." Jaxx frowns at the blood, perhaps sensing another ending approaching rapidly. "Your people have found shelter on the Citadel...Have you any words for them...Or for me, that I might help to guide them better?" Balthazar reaches his other hand out to grip Jaxx's free hand, and pulls, as if beckoning the Timonae closer. Jaxx obediently moves towards Balthazar, grip firm on the old Mystic's hand, N'Sha-El leans forward swiftly, sliding a knee forward to try and lift the weakened Balthazar up to make it easier for him. She slides an arm under his shoulders, supporting his neck with the crook of her arm. Balthazar barely manages to whisper, raspily, "Humility...before all." Jaxx's brows knit. "I...Believe that I understand." Balthazar coughs again, spewing more blood, and then he becomes limp. One final breath hisses from between his red-speckled lips and he sags toward the dais. His eyes close one last time, and it is over. N'Sha-El's eyes widen. "No...Balthazar...you can't die yet!" Her voice rises, like a child's plaintive cry, echoing in the wind as she shakes him. The ground trembles beneath you. Jaxx holds the Eye's hand a moment longer, saying softly..."Goodbye, Balthazar. I will not let the things that we have begun slide to nothing." He squeezes that hand, dead as it is, then shakes his head to Sha. "No. It is his time..And we must leave. We are in great danger." N'Sha-El nods. Just once. She retrieves her sweater and meticulously wipes Balthazar's bloody lips, before laying him down on the ground and covering him with the bloody garment. "Good bye Balthazar..." she murmurs quietly. "Thanks...for taking care of my boy." With that she rises, her face smooth and stiff. "Let's go." Jaxx nods a bit, reaching for Sha's hand before walking briskly from the Hall. N'Sha-El follows. Street The crimson glow of a bilious, dying sun glares like a baleful demonic eye through a swirling shroud of sand driven by a blazing wind among the domed buildings scattered around Overlook Mesa. Once-colorful rugs, now tattered and pale, flap violently in some archways. Jaxx's face is a stony mask as he brushes through the shattered streets of Val Shohob. His eyes roam as the pair moves, taking in each shattered edifice, each bit of ruined beauty. N'Sha-El doesn't say a word, merely tightening her bloody fingers around her fiancé’s. Her eyes glance upward, watching as the sun's light appears to pulsate. Sha and Jaxx hurry back to the Fool’s Pride, ending up in the Cockpit: Jaxx coughs softly into the back of his free hand over some bit of dust and sand, releasing Sha's. He moves to the Navigation console, sitting down and strapping himself in. N'Sha-El finds herself the grav-couch and seats herself once more, strapping herself in with more than her usual ferocity. Jaxx stares out the viewport a moment more, soaking in the reddened landscape with his eyes, before thumbing the ship's accelerator forward. With an unusual grinding sound, the ship begins to roll forward. N'Sha-El keeps her silence. Her attention stays on the viewport a moment, then she murmurs a soft, "Al'hamdulilah..." and falls quiet again. The ship tears out of the atmosphere, seemingly very close to the boiling red star, from its size in the viewport. The stars seem to swing as Jaxx, without hesitation, adjusts his course. A moment later, they lurch, and the ship hurls itself into Hyperspace. Category:Arc II logs